Boot Up
by Rojas Walrus
Summary: Inspired by the first part of Stanly Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket. Frequent use of the F word. Story of Hawkeye's experience in Boot Camp. Fairly short, and largely dialog.


**A note on publication: I published this for (primarily) two reasons. 1.) The solid fact is that every time I see a boot camp sequence in a piece on this site, it is hideously painful to read. A friend of mine, MoonStar Duchess, is the case that comes to mind the most glaringly, in Best Kept Secret. Sorry, but THAT IS NOT HOW IT GOES, DAMNIT. 2.) It's been far too long since I've published anything. This can be traced back to one sole factor, which is listed in my homepage. I am a lazy asshole. I thought that with summer I would be able to get a whole bunch of shit out, but I forgot how I operate. The truth is that I wrote this in Boston, three months ago on a vacation, and it's taken 'till now to put it out. So why am I writing this now? Because I have an essay that I'm procrastination. **

**A note on accuracy: I spend way too much time jerking off at the military channel. (No, I do not mean that literally, for those dense enough to take that seriously.) I spend far too much time on the internet, reading Military handbooks, articles, and surfing weapons forums. I read more Tom Clancy than is healthy. None of this changes the fact that I am an eighteen year old Gun nerd who posts fanfiction about things that he himself has never actually experienced. As is expected, there will be mistakes, whether purposefully or accidentally made. Also, this takes place WWIIish era (some people, Dyanne, would say otherwise but that's not the point) and as such there will be certain things in there that would never happen in even the USMC with today's code of conduct standards. **

**A note on some of my (past?) readers: I don't know if you are really gunna read this, but whatevas. I'd just like to publically thank my loyal reviewers that I picked up with ROSE. (it just reached 100 reviews, FUCK YEAH!) Most specifically, ssa dropout. Holy shit, how you've put up with me, I don't know, I know I can be weird as hell, but your, and everyone else's, reviews were what finished that fic, not just boredom during my Creative Writing class. I'm not taking out any of those commas.**

**On with the fic.**

* * *

There were twenty of them. Each one stood perfectly straight in front of their bunks, nervous about what was to come. Out of the twenty she and one other woman, a brunette with her hair tied back into a pony tail, were the only female influence in the group. She had her hair cut short. More than anything, it was the hair that distinguished the females from those of the predominate sex.

Week One

"I am your Senior Drill Instructor." A man walked down the middle of the recruits, dressed in full uniform. His pristine boots fell in a resounding cadence. Two other men escorted him at his flanks, staring at each of them like raptors. "You are to refer to me as Gunnery Sergeant Bacon or Sir, do you faggots understand me?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the crowd responded in broken unison.

"Bullshit, I can't hear you. If I hear that type of pussy attempt again you will all be pushing until your arms fall off, do you understand me?"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

"My word is law, and my judgment is fair. If you feel cheated or discriminated against, either by race or sex, I suggest you take that up with the Dr. Coo-coo Clock, because I don't give a flying fuck about you. Do you faggots understand me?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The response was somewhat disorganized. Sirs melted into yeses, and other sirs were straggled after most were done.

"What, did you leave your ballsack by the door? Sound off like you got a pair!"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

GySgt. Bacon barreled over to the closet recruit to him. He stood at a point where his eyes drilled into his skull.

"What is your name, Private?"

"Sir, Cory Cucklesbutter, sir!"

"Cory Cocksucker? Holy shit, Private Cocksucker, I've heard terrible names, but yours takes the cherry topped cake. Did your parents want you to get beat up on a daily basis, or were they just too poor to have their name changed?"

"Sir, we were poor, sir!"

"Do you live to your name, Private Cocksucker?"

"Sir, no sir!"

Bacon shifted his attention on the brunette and left Private Cocksucker to be.

"State your name Private!"

"Sir, this Private's name is Rebecca Catalina, sir!"

"Private Catalina, do you frequent male prostitutes?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Do you plan on dying a virgin?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Well goddammit, Private, with a face like that, you're going to have fucking make your mind! Do you suck dicks?"

"Sir, no sir!"

The back of Bacon's hand whipped across Catalina's face.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Private Catalina! There are three things in this world I hate more than anything else! Traitors, faggots, and liars! Do you suck dicks?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Catalina's face was badly bruised from the reprimand. The whole of the barracks had learned from the Private's mistake.

Bacon lost interest in the woman and moved toward the short haired blond.

"Private, why is it that you already feel a need to express your insubordination?"

"Sir, this private does not know what you mean sir!" Hawkeye felt no fear toward Bacon. She had been slapped around before. Though the man was much larger than her, she was confident that nothing he would do would cause her more pain than she had experienced before.

"Are you a fucking retard? You were supposed to have your hair cut to half a centimeter! Why then, do you have it cut to four?"

"Sir, I do have it cut to regulations, sir!"

"Are you fucking deaf, Private? The regulation for any enlisted male soldier is half a centimeter! Half-a-fucking centimeter!"

She pretended his statement did not hurt her ego.

"Sir, I-"

Bacon's closed fist slammed against her face so hard that her head rotate ninety degrees.

"Did I ask you a fucking question, Private?"

"Sir, no sir!" Hawkeye's response was weak, and she hadn't recovered fully from the strike.

"Damnit Private, look at me when I'm addressing you!" Bacon's glare was as the devil. When Hawkeye brought her eyes to meet his, she felt his fist on her stomach, causing her to buckle to the ground. What the fuck is wrong with you, Private? I thought I told you stand at fucking attention!"

It took the Private a solid thirty seconds to get to her feet.

"What is your name, Private?"

S-sir, Private Teresa Hawkeye sir." It took all her effort to get the words out of her mouth. Fortunately for her he had mercy for her lack of enthusiasm.

"Teresa is a woman's name, is it not?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Well, Private Hawkeye, I am a merciful man. No man should have to go by the name Teresa, so your first name is now Clint. Do you appreciate my gratitude?"

"Sir, yes sir."

Bacon raised his hand to the ready, and Hawkeye flinched visibly. More than anything, she did not want to him to hit her again. The pain he inflicted was worse than anything she had felt before, and she wasn't sure how much more she could withstand.

"Also because I am merciful, I will you permit you to make a trip down to the platoon barber, so that you may amend your insubordination."

"Sir, yes sir!" She surprised herself with her eagerness. Roy had cut her hair as it was, but at the moment Roy was the last thing on her mind.

**I'll end it there. If you care, I can continue it, but somehow I don't think this will get any reviews. **


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